


Deus Ex Machina

by ultradoctorduck (Poet_Anderson)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drinking, Drugs, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Underage Drinking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poet_Anderson/pseuds/ultradoctorduck
Summary: On July 14 2001 three year old Felix Chilton was enjoying a day at the park with his father.3:21 pm that day he was reported missing.In October 2017 his family had accepted the fact he had passed away.But that is far from the truth.The now adult Felix is living a life of organised crime, under the watchful eye of William Henry Foster, who's motives are unclear. . .





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first attempt at writing so constructive criticism is much appreciated! I hope you all enjoy  
> (Also I'm sorry for the weird lines, still figuring out ao3)

>  

 

Victor shouldn't be drinking. He shouldn't be in this bar, at this time of night. He shouldn't be absentmindedly watching a game at his third glass of whiskey.  
He shouldn't be celebrating his son's 20th birthday alone and in a shady bar.  
But it was all he could do.  
He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall; almost 3 AM.  
A part of him wondered what Alana was doing.  
Was she busy pretending Felix never happened as she always did, or was she finally allowing herself to remember?  
It didn't matter, he hadn't seen her in years.  
He got up from his stool and payed the bill, with a generous tip.

This time Dominic anticipated the punch to the nose. Didn't hurt less, though.  
As he felt the warm blood running down his face one of the attackers - the leader, he assumed - cupped Dominic's face in his hands, forcing him to look up from a painful angle.  
"Remember who owns you, and remember the consequences when you fail to fullfil your duties."  
No doubt this was from _them_. Low-time criminals were rarely that well-spoken. 

The guy memorised it.  
The faint glimmer of hope this was a mild warning, that they were only instructed to leave a message, disappeared when the leader raised his fist again.  
This was going to hurt.

__________________________________________________________________________  
The ballroom was grand and open, even when a quarter of it was used for seating and an impressive buffet. A string quartet was playing a waltz and couples were dancing effortlessly, with a grace  that could only have been acquired if one had been raised around luxury and wealth.  
A gala, exclusively for New York's high society.

  
"Montiel really outdid herself this time, I've rarely been to something as lavish this."

"Outstanding, indeed." Truthfully, for the entire duration of it Felix had been waiting for the end. He continued feigning interest in the topics the other guests brought up.  
A lady boasting about her financial achievements interrupted by a middle-aged man smoothly entering the conversation.  
A moment of eye-contact between the gentleman and Felix was the only giveaway that there was more to their relationship than small talk. Felix tightened his grip on his glas.

  
He had - somehow - managed to survive the event, and after thanking the host for her generosity Felix made it his mission to leave the premises as quick as socially acceptable possible.  
As he was making his way to the exit, however, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.  
He turned around and met the familiar eyes of William Foster.  
Foster was not a remarkable man when it came to appearance, he was rather short and had light brown hair, the same color as his eyes. If it had not been for Foster's incredible charm Felix would have forgotten him the same day they had met.

"Leaving already?"

______________________________________

As Victor was walking to the main street, something stopped him in his tracks. A thump-like sound followed by a groan.  
Someone was getting a beating.  
He was debating whether to call the police or sort it out himself.  
Of course, he could also walk away, a rather tempting option.  
The internal debate was interrupted by a final - loud - thud and the sound of people running.

No use for an internal debate, then.  
When he was sure the coast was clear Victor made his way to the victim and offered a hand.  
Now that they were standing in the light, Victor saw that the man was rather young, not older than twenty-five.

"Are you alright?" Victor immediately regretted asking this.

"Yeah, fine." Neither believed that.

"Did they take your wallet? Should I get you a cab?"

"They did," Dominic paused to wipe some blood away, "but you don't have to do that, sir. I live close by."

"You won't be getting far with those injuries, son. I'll pay for it, don't worry."

"Only if I get to pay you back."

"You don't have to pay me back, I won't miss it."

Dominic sighed. Why wouldn't this guy let him politely decline his generosity? Probably out of town, New Yorkers aren't that kind.  
He considered the offer again, had to admit to himself that it would indeed be painful to walk forty minutes in his current state, and gave in.

"Can I at least know your name?"

______________________________________________________________________________

Felix relaxed his shoulders and smiled apologetically when he saw who was standing next to him.

 

"It's over, isn't it?"

"For most," William bowed his head closer to that of the younger man. "some have received a. . .special invitation." 

Felix frowned, he was positive he had received no such invitation, although he had to admit he hadn't checked his inbox in a while. Besides,  even if he had, he probably would have ignored it anyway.  
"I didn't get one, I don't think Montiel would appreciate me being there." Felix replied, making sure his tone didn't reveal the fact that he wanted to leave and. Go. Home.

Foster stepped back. "I'm sure Montiel will grant an exception," he reassured. "Especially if I insist."

 Felix hesitated. Either he went home now and made sure his team was doing what they were supposed to, or he would go with William and continue gaining status amongst the ranks. After considering every possible advantage and disadvantage, he made his choice.

"Let's not keep the others waiting, then."


	2. Chapter 2

Dominic couldn't hide his fascination with the man - Victor - sitting next to him in the cab. He was old, perhaps in his early fifties, with a sharp nose and eyes laying deep in their sockets.  
Rarely in all his years of living in this city he had encountered someone willing to offer a hand and never someone who had actually _insisted_ upon it.  
It should be no surprise to anyone then, that he was wary of the man's intentions.  
Although "harvesting organs" wasn't exactly high on the list of potential motivation, Dominic made a mental note not to accept any drinks.  
He sighed and looked out of the taxi window. If he was honest, having his organs sold on the black market was the most use he would be to anyone lately.  
Eventually the cab stopped at Dominic's building.  
He exited, but before walking away he turned around.  
"Thanks for the ride."

Victor smiled and shook his head slightly.  
The young man was an enigma, and he had a suspicion he hadn't heard the last of him.

The driver had turned around. "Where to now?" 

Victor gave him his address. As the cab left this shabby part of the city his somber mood returned.   
Twenty. A man already. He'd be in college, studying law, or English literature, or God knows what. He'd be head over heels for some girl.  
He would be. . .but he wasn't. 

     __________________________________________

As they walked through the deserted hallway William put his hand around Felix's waist, pulling him closer. Felix shivered. Although this was familiar to him by now, he was still startled.  
They entered an elevator and waited in silence until they reached the destined floor.

With it's minimalist design and dark colors the penthouse was a strak contrast to the colonial design of the lower levels. It was an open space with a bar to the right of the door and dark furniture methodically placed throughout, creating the illusion the penthouse was larger than it actually was. The walls were almost exclusively comprised of broad windows, affording a magnificent view of the skyline. It was obvious they were the first entering it this evening.

Felix looked to William in confusion. "There isn't a party?"

"No. I needed a place for us to talk in private. Come." He motioned for Felix to follow him to the bar. Felix sat down on one of the stools, watching William carefully select a bottle of liquor and pouring two glasses for both of them. He shoved one to Felix and walked around the bar to stand next him. He placed a hand on his shoulder and brought his head closer to Felix's. 

"When I was away, I kept thinking about you." He spoke softly, these words were only meant for one. "You have the ability to achieve so much, with of talent others can only dream of."  
A small smile appeared on Felix's face, and he sat up a little straighter.

William's eyes turned cold and he stepped away, ending the intimacy of the scene.  
"If only you listened to me." His voice was now devoid of kindness or affection.  
"I was away for barely two weeks, and you managed to undo everything," he continued.  
"Sometimes I wonder if you want us to fail, that you don't care about loyalty and only about yourself."

The smile was long faded, and blind panic had taken over.  
"I don't! I would never want that. For any of us. I'm trying everything but-" Felix stuttered, desperately trying to convince him.

"But? You're not good enough, is that what you're saying?" Foster pulled him from the stool and grabbed his arms, his fingers digging into his flesh.  
"You aren't up for the task, and instead of letting one more capable lead you refuse to admit your incompetence and risk everything for the sake of your arrogance!"  
In those few moments Felix was positive he would die. He would die and deserve it, a fitting punishment for his selfishness and negligent behavior.  
Then Foster released Felix from his grip and smiled at him as if nothing had happened.

"But I know you don't, that's why I care about you."

Felix was unsure how to react, so he simply smiled. Foster kept watching him. Although he tried to mask his emotions, Felix was incredibly easy to read.He cocked his head and his smile grew wider.

"A party is missing, indeed, however. . . The bedroom _is_ available." The boy's eyes were glassy. He blinked, not comprehending.

William waited patiently. His breathing started to slow. He slumped and if William hadn't caught him he'd be lying face down on the floor. The drug had overwhelmed Felix's system. He guided the intoxicated young man to the bedroom, slowly.

Where Felix's breathing was slow William's was rapidly increasing, and not from the effort of keeping Felix standing.  
The anticipation was always the most intense part when his hunger for pleasure was at it's peak.

He started walking faster, patience wearing thin. He opened the door and pushed Felix face-down on the bed.  
Pratically tore his pants of off him. Unbuckled his own belt. He was panting now. He didn't hesitate.

Felix was his. _His_. Both in body and mind. 

    __________________________________________

The pain in his face had mostly been reduced to a faint throb. His chest and legs, though, that was a whole other story. Climbing the stairs to his apartment was torture, and Dominic cursed and groaned every step of the way.  
Eventually he managed to reach his floor, put the right key in the door, and stumble to the couch. He laid there for a while, trying to process what happened.  
Strange guy, Victor. Or rather, strange that this clearly well-off man was hanging out in a back-alley of Chinatown. Victor himself wasn't that remarkable. From what Dominic had gathered he was just a guy getting drunk to forget his mistakes. He knew plenty of those.  
But the pieces didn't fit. Why was he in this part of town? He didn't seemed fazed by the blood, too. Most people would have walked around him with a neat curve, avoiding the evidence of violence. Did Foster sent him? And why had he insisted on paying for a cab?  
Dominic sighed, not having the energy to play detective. He'd look into it tomorrow, needing to lay low for a while anyway.  
He doubted there was still any real threat, but you could never take too many precautions.

Someone very powerful was not happy with his recent behavior.  
The beating had been masked with the weak excuse of disloyalty, but Dominic wasn't blind to the underlying message.

Eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep, the demons of his past and present haunting him in dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update long overdue. I've come to the conclusion my writing isn't up to the task of telling this story. I will continue to write and hopefully improve, but not with this. When I'm satisfied with my skills I will delete this work and reupload it. My Tumblr is @poet-j-anderson, you can drop something in my inbox if you feel like it. (Also this chapter is unedited, excuse the mess. I copy-pasted it straight from my document)


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